Castles
by miley-avril
Summary: Another Charming Family reunion story from me. This one, however, focuses on Emma/James. Rated T for language. *I posted this last night, but apparently the link didn't work so this is a re-upload.*


**HERE'S YET ANOTHER TAKE I WAS THINKING OF ON THE CHARMING FAMILY REUNION. MOST OF WHAT I'VE DONE THUS FAR HAS BEEN WITH SNOW/EMMA, SO I WANTED JAMES/EMMA TO GET THEIR TURN. ENJOY!**

Walls are meant to keep things out. They protect whatever's inside. There are many types of walls; James knows this from his days as a shepherd, repairing the quaint house he and his mother owned. Even when he was a boy, he would help his father. There's a simple fence, made to separate neighbors. The other kind is to make a room. Some are wooden, only meant to be up temporarily. Others are made of stone, erected with the intent to stand tall forever. His daughter is surrounded by a freaking castle, metaphorically, of course. He would loved it if she had grown up inside an actual castle. That would make the process of getting to know her easier. They had started off on the wrong foot. Actually, that's an understatement, but he doesn't feel like going there now. He understands that she has every right to be pissed; he broke her best friend's heart numerous times and stomped all over it. While it's frustrating, he knows they're getting somewhere because she doesn't always look like she wants to kick his ass. He's pretty sure she would have if not for the fear of her roommate –his wife and her mother, as odd and screwed up as the idea is at the moment– would kick her out. While the lack of trust hurts, he knows he can't, and has no right to, ask for it. He needs to earn it. That's why he's hesitantly standing outside of the police station, where Emma's been camping out for two nights since she broke the curse. He didn't know much about her childhood, and Snow had told him he's better off not knowing, at least for right now. Honestly, he isn't sure if he'll ever be ready to hear about it, but he wants to hear the happy stuff, at least.. He decides that when she's ready, his daughter will open up. The first step to getting to that level is by showing her he loves her.

"Emma?" He calls out quietly, trying to keep the wavering in his voice to a minimum. This is the first time he's talked to her since remembering she's the small baby he'd held in his arms 28 years ago. He hears some shuffling from the back, followed by a string of curses. He ventures further in, knowing she'll never come to him at the moment. He locates the office and finds her staring determinedly at something on the wall, slouching in her chair. He follows her gaze, finding nothing of interest. James looks at her expectantly, and after almost a minute she looks up at him, glaring angrily.

"You sent me through with a 7-year-old instead of one of you." Emma says, her voice accusatory and furious, yet monotone. If his daughter didn't look like she was about to murder him, he'd have laughed. It's exactly the same tone Snow used on him several times while in labor. He knows she's still feeling numb, but seeing him is setting in the dull ache of longing. She's holding onto the anger simply because it's easier to deal with, so he doesn't take offense.

"The wardrobe only took one, I don't know what you're talking about." He doesn't think that sentence through, and winces after it comes out of his mouth. He doesn't want her to think he's being invalidating.

"No, it took two. August –who I guess is Pinocchio, God, that sounds crazy– was sent through a few minutes before me. Why would you do that?" She looks up briefly, her eyes shining with unshed tears that she's determinedly keeping at bay. James has to fight every instinct in his body not to rush over and engulf her in a hug.

"Your-" he catches himself, "Snow and I were told only one could go through. Believe me, Emma, if we had known… the original plan was to send Snow through as the curse was coming, but you came early. The Blue Fairy and Jiminy lied to us." He's in shock and doesn't know what to say, but hopes his point and sorrow are getting across. He tries to get a grip on his anger so as not to scare her away and make her retreat back into her lovely castle. She's created just a tiny window for him to see how she's feeling, and he doesn't want to ruin that. Sensing the fury he's harboring, she sits up, on the defensive. James sighs, mentally scolding himself for thinking he could hide his emotions from the daughter of his wife. Obviously, she believes he didn't know about the whole 'it takes two' thingy, because when she relaxes, it's more of a flop backwards. "I can't apologize enough for what you went through because we trusted the wrong people."

"You're right, you can't." She says coldly. When she speaks again, her voice is softer, and she's blinking back tears. "But I know why you did it. You had to give me my best chance and it was an impossible situation and I was faced with it, too, though to a lesser extent. The sad thing is that my 10-year-old son had to explain it to me to realize it." Emma swipes angrily at her eyes and begins to fidget. It doesn't occur to James that the way he's standing in the doorway is boxing her in and she feels a panic attack coming on.

"I'm glad you do." He smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his ears. When she doesn't glare at him, he takes it as a sign to take another step closer. Emma immediately relaxes a little. At least if things get too emotional she can make a run for it. "I know none of that makes what happened right. Snow told me a little bit about your life, just in that it's been rough. I, um, I want to know more, when you're ready. It wasn't her place to share specifics, so…" He shrugs.

"Thank you for keeping that in mind." Emma hates how awkward and formal things are, so she tries to lighten the mood. "You know, out of all the scenarios I imagined about finding my parents, this definitely wasn't one of them." This earns her a quiet chuckle from James.

"Maybe this isn't how _you_ imagined things, but you're exactly how I thought –and hoped– you would be." He says. The blonde looks away, her gaze once again fixed on that wall. She really didn't want to have this conversation right now, and quite possibly ever.

"What do you have to be so proud about?" She asks, her voice hollow and shaky. It's followed by a humorless laugh. "I got pregnant accidentally because I was stupid, then gave the kid up, which didn't work out well for him. I can't attach to people, I have no life plan. I'm a walking train wreck. The only thing I'm good at is spotting a liar, but even that's been wiped out."

"Emma…" James takes the plunge and places a hand on top of hers. He feels her stiffen, every muscle in her body becoming rigid. "I have many regrets, but topping the list is not being one of the reasons you are who you are. Some of those things may be true: you _did_ accidentally get pregnant, and yes you gave Henry up, but it was with the best of intentions. Trust doesn't come easy to you, but once they've earned it, you're fiercely loyal. You're so strong and independent and –though I know you won't admit it– compassionate, and such a joy to be around. You're just like your mother, except you have my natural ability at swordsmanship." He adds with a smile. Emma flushes under the praise, for the moment ignoring his phrasing of Mary Marg –Snow White. Whatever her name is.

"Henry told you about that, didn't he?" The blonde knew, when she had told her son about the dragon fighting thing, that it was a bad idea.

"Yes." James chuckled. "Such an excited little boy. But let's not focus on him for right now, okay? This is all about you."

"I'm gonna be honest, it's making me uncomfortable." She says, finally managing to get her hand free. James presses his lips into a line instead of frowning. He doesn't want to make her feel guilty.

"Another thing your mother does. She can't have all the attention be on her for long periods of time. Do you know how long it took me to get her to tell stories of her father?"

"So she isn't anything like… you know… in Storybrooke…" Emma still can't bring herself to call her 'Snow' –the idea is still too ridiculous even after two days of processing.

"She's just as kind, but no. No, she's not. When you and I get back to the apartment, she's probably going to tackle you then scold you. Be prepared for mood swings."

"Okay." She laughs a little. "Wait, you mean you're bringing me home." The control she had regained was once again lost at the last word. The tears start falling and James opens his arms up.

"C'mere, Baby Girl." Emma hesitates slightly before getting up and walking into his embrace.

"I-I've waited my whole life for this. After I figured out –or at least thought– I was dumped on the side of a highway I thought it would be a little different. You know, a little more resentment and the entirely too real possibility of some punches being thrown…"

"I kind of got that message more than a few times after I hurt Snow." James doesn't mention how much saying those words hurt _him_. He figures she knows what he's feeling. "The strange thing is, at the time I couldn't figure out why, but now it's obvious, is that though I was terrified whenever I saw you walking my way, I was also proud. I still am, and always will be."

"I thought we were done with the mushy stuff." She pulls back and looks up at him with red, teary eyes. There's a sense of serenity on her face that he hadn't seen before.

"I know, sorry. What can I say, it's who I am." He drapes an arm around her shoulder. "Let's go home."

As they walk through the door of the police station, James feels as though he's walked through one of his daughter's walls. High as they may be, there's always a way in. He used to think there was some trick to breach them. Now, he realizes that isn't necessarily the case. He doesn't have to look for a weakness, or a crack, or even a window. Sometimes, one just needs to know where to look, and look hard enough to show the person they truly care, and you can find a way past even castle walls.

**FEEL FREE TO LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING.**


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